


The North Wind Doth Blow

by The Big Roman (Hammocker)



Series: A World of One Color [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Feeding, M/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Praise Kink, Slapping, Spanking, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-21 23:56:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11955402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammocker/pseuds/The%20Big%20Roman
Summary: Jason would never admit it, but this was his kryptonite and he was hooked.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _The North wind doth blow and we shall have snow,_  
>  _And what will poor robin do then, poor thing?_  
>  _He'll sit in a barn and keep himself warm_  
>  _and hide his head under his wing, poor thing_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I should mention that I started reading these comics via [Hoopla](https://www.hoopladigital.com), which is free to use with many, many library cards across the US. Not sure about other territories, but if you've got a card, I highly recommend taking advantage. Might just get you reading more comics.
> 
> I really had to get used to writing for Roman, since I'm so used to a more traditional, never-not-angry-at-the-world Black Mask. I like that Roman, but it was fun to write for him holding back more. I kind of imagine him having a voice kind of like a Fallout ghoul with the speech patterns of a really monotone Italian mobster. Until his temper boils over, then he goes full Arkham Origins Black Mask.

It was odd for Jason, going to dinner without being expressly invited. Hell, having dinner with anyone at all was weird. He was used to having take-out meals, alone in his hideout and researching some new case. It was perfect for his purposes; this was- different. Especially with how the direction their little “relationship” had taken.

Black Mask was adamant about he and Jason sharing at least one meal every day. Jason wasn’t sure if it was a kind of ritual or method of manipulation or an excuse to keep Jason close. It could just as well have been all of the above and more. Yet, somehow, Jason didn’t mind as much as he’d have wanted. 

As he walked up to his usual place across from Roman, Jason found that nothing had been placed down for him at all. Everything on the table was concentrated down by Roman, who seemed none too concerned. He didn’t so much as look at Jason at first.

“Don’t know if you noticed-” Jason started, narrowing his eyes at Roman. “-but I do like having utensils when I eat. Maybe a plate even.”

Roman tilted his head up. The zipper over his mouth was still zipped up and his food was untouched, like he’d been waiting for Jason. Jason felt an uncomfortable twist in his stomach as he wondered exactly what Roman wanted.

“You won’t need those,” Roman said, tone as disinterested as always. “C’mere, boy.”

Jason gave him a quizzical stare, but obeyed. He came up to Roman, slowly, but surely. Roman barely looked at him and said nothing, his posture telling Jason everything. Roman was leaned back, legs spread comfortably. His shoulders were relaxed and his chin was resting in his palm. Despite the temper that Jason was all too familiar with, Roman was the picture of cool confidence in that moment. The only thing missing was a cigar between his fingers.

“Kneel down.”

Jason was struck, but not surprised at how forward the order was. Usually Roman at least waited until they definitely wouldn’t be bothered. Dirtying the dining room wasn’t something Jason had expected from him.

“Look, I get your meaning, but I can’t exactly live off cum, you know.”

“Interesting idea, but not what I had in mind.” Roman gestured downward with one hand. “Kneel, kid.” 

“One knee, two? You gotta be more specific.”

“Don’t make me say it again, or we’ll be going with your plan.”

Jason snorted. He was being spoken to like a petulant child, and he suspected that that was exactly how Roman saw him. But much as Jason didn’t appreciate his pride being bruised, he was hungry and he’d done more humiliating things to earn Roman’s trust. That was the only reason, thank you very much. 

So Jason did as he was told; he kneeled down at Roman’s side, but kept a good few inches between them. He knew what Roman wanted, but no way would he let himself look easy.

“Little closer,” Roman insisted, beckoning Jason forward.

Jason inched forward at the command. He could smell Roman now; the freshly pressed fabric of his suit and the leather from his belt and gloves and shoes. It was too familiar and too enticing. 

“You can do better than that,” Roman said. “I give you so much out of the kindness of my heart and I can’t get a little affection?”

“Sucking your dick every other night isn’t affection?”

“Not what I’m looking for here.”

Jason made a point of sighing and hesitating further. Roman seemed none-too-bothered by it, but he didn’t have to so much as tap his foot to make it clear that he was waiting. He could wait all night, but he didn’t have to because Jason knew that Roman knew that Jason would crack first. And crack Jason did.

Without making a sound, Jason laid his head down over Roman’s lap. He rubbed his cheek up against Roman’s leg for good measure, and privately hoped that any oils on his face would leave a stain.

“Good boy,” Roman purred, too sweet, too enticing. “Was that so hard?”

Jason was about to throw Roman’s words back in his face, when fingers threaded through his hair and rubbed into his scalp. Instead of the angry words he had planned, he made a low groan of pleasure. _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ that shouldn’t have felt so _good_. Jason bit his lip as he tried, and failed miserably to glare up at Roman. He’d never admit it, but this might have been his Kryptonite. The fucking was great and all, but nothing pacified him like being petted and praised.

He heard a zipper being pulled open above, all the while those kneading fingers kept him subdued

“I don’t know why you make these things so difficult for yourself,” Roman said, somewhere between fond and condescending. “But don’t let me stop you. Nothing more dull than a slut who just lays there.”

The fingers disappeared and Jason silverware clink above him. He blinked as his mental faculties came back to him.

“Good thing I’m not a slut,” Jason said, tilting his head to get a look at what was going on.

“Sure, you’re not, son.”

A hand touched Jason’s face again, this time lacking a glove. It slid down to touch his cheek and chin.

“Put your head up for me,” Roman said. It was said so gently that Jason might have mistaken it for a request had he not known better.

Jason did as he was told, but not before taking a detour to press up against Roman’s palm. It wasn’t every day that Roman took clothes off, not even his stupid gloves. Jason would take every opportunity to remind him of that exposure and nakedness. Jason was used to it, but seeing Roman’s bared flesh, that was special.

If Roman minded, he wasn’t giving it away. Once Jason’s head was up, the hand disappeared again, leaving Jason to wait for what was coming. He didn’t have to look up to figure it out; he could hear the sound of meat and soft bread being torn and cut. 

When Roman offered his hand once more, it was held at a short distance from Jason’s face, palm outstretched. Chunks and shreds of some kind of meat, maybe pork, were held there, and, as Jason breathed in their fragrance, his stomach rumbled. Whatever it was, it was rich and spiced. Any complaints Jason might have had were overridden by hunger.

He leaned forward and grabbed up any trace of food in Roman’s palm before shifting away again like a greedy animal. God, whoever cooked for Roman, he needed a raise. The meat alone was fragrant and the flavor seemed to spread throughout his mouth. Jason couldn’t help but hum with pleasure at the taste, and he did his best not to swallow immediately. Roman seemed to find the sight of him entertaining, as he chuckled from above.

“My poor boy,” Roman said, saccharine sweetness dripping from his voice. “You don’t get enough to eat, being out and about so often, do you?”

Jason was still in the middle of chewing, and took it as an excuse not to answer. Roman wasn’t wrong per se. Much as Bruce had drilled into him to not skip meals and clean his plate, he’d found himself habitually skipping. He found time to pick up take-out or snacks at night, but any other time, he was either sleeping or dealing with criminals. The only reason he’d been regularly eating dinner lately was because Roman insisted.

“I can’t have you running around with no fuel in your system,” Roman told him, like Jason was just some kid who couldn’t really understand what he was saying. “Could be the difference between you hitting your shot or you getting shot. You know what it’d do to me if you got hurt on my watch?”

“It’d make for a good laugh,” Jason suggested, shrugging.

“Don’t keep you around for laughs, my boy.”

Jason preened at the comment, for reasons he hated to even acknowledge. Roman offered him another handful of meat, this time mixed with some snap peas. Jason ate just as eagerly, even taking the time to lap at Roman’s hand and fingers for every scrap he could get. 

“But it is funny,” Roman kept on. “You go off and you act tough, you get in fights, you spit fire, but you need someone taking care of you.”

“I need you? I’m not the one who keeps pushing you into bed. I don’t ask you to do my dirty work.”

“Between all your bullshit, I don’t think I’ve heard you utter a single “no,”” From the sounds of it, Roman was skewering a particular thick bit of meat. “Could make a man think you like being pushed down.”

Jason glanced up as a fork passed Roman’s mask. The movement was sedate and clean, seeming almost inhuman. Roman made the simple act of eating look so controlled. Between the mask and his subtle movements, it was almost impossible to see him chewing.

“Or the discipline,” Roman continued, like nothing had been in his mouth at all. “Maybe you even like being dominated. That’s the impression you give, kid.”

“Well, you know, impressions aren’t everything,” Jason said. “Maybe I just want your food and your stuff and I’m playing to your twisted fetishes.”

“Guess it’s working.”

Once again, a handful of assorted pork, vegetables, and bread was held in front of Jason’s face.

“You want my food so much, then you’d better eat.”

Jason obliged him. He practically sucked in the offered food and gulped it down without complaint. When more was presented, Jason took it just as quickly. The longer it went, the harder it was for Jason to do anything but accept more.

The symbolism here wasn’t lost on Jason; he was eating out of Black Mask’s palm. Like a loving father - a good _daddy_ \- he provided for Jason, and, in return, Jason met certain expectations. It worked well enough, but Roman seemed particularly interested in rubbing it in. Not that Jason minded. He could play along with just about anything if it kept Roman from scrutinizing him in the wrong way. And so what if Jason enjoyed himself a little too? He didn’t _need_ this kind of thing. It just felt nice, that sense of being looked after. Taken care of. Maybe even wanted.

He was going to have to bite that hand eventually, Jason reminded himself. Rid himself of the false sense of being cared for. In the meantime, he was gonna enjoy as much of that melt in your mouth tender pork as he wanted.

Roman offered him a few more handfuls, each given slower than the last. Jason didn’t bother to complain anymore; it was and always had been counterproductive. Nothing moved Roman but Roman. Jason just had to bide his time.

Of course, submitting wasn’t ideal either, because all Roman seemed to want to do was egg Jason into fighting him.

“You’d rather be blowing me, wouldn’t you?” Roman asked, as casual as if he’d asked for the time.

Jason stopped chewing. It was for just a split second, but he knew that Roman had to have noticed. Asshole noticed everything. Jason didn’t say a word.

“Don’t ignore me,” Roman said, brushing his fingertips against Jason’s cheek. “You brought it up. First damn thing that popped in your head was swallowing my cum like a slut, wasn’t it now?”

A shiver ran through Jason. He couldn’t deny it; the thought of being on his knees in front of Roman could only lead to thoughts of choking on Roman’s cock and, yeah, swallowing around it. It felt good, stretching jaw and throat. But he’d be damned if he said as much without a fight.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, old man,” Jason deflected, shifting away from Roman’s touch.

“You’re a real bad liar too,” Roman said, shaking his head. “No one buys it.”

“Maybe you’re just-”

Roman shoved his hand across Jason’s cheeks and mouth, gagging Jason and holding his jaw in place.

“Did you lie this much to the Bat?”

Jason choked as he swallowed involuntarily. How? How could he possibly-?

“Wh-” Jason barely managed to breath the syllable before Roman shoved his fingers into his mouth. He wanted to tear away, but couldn’t find the willpower to do so. He was frozen at Roman’s mercy.

“I really hope you don’t think I’m that stupid, Jason.”

Roman’s fingers ran over his tongue, giving Jason a strong taste of leather. Any lingering taste in his mouth was overridden, and his eyes watered. It went as quickly as it came, Roman’s hand coming to rest beneath his chin.

“Honestly, what kind of idiot wastes a thing like you?”

Roman’s head tilted down to look at Jason directly for what seemed like the first time. He paused, then, and Jason almost imagined he could see him smiling underneath the mask.

“Here you are, playing tough, scared to death, and still letting me do whatever I want,” Roman said, and Jason thought he could detect a hint of something in his voice that hadn’t been there before. Something cruel. “Batman could have had a lot of fun with you. Can’t say I’d have it any other way myself.”

Jason felt sucker-punched, and he struggled for breath for a moment. Then he gritted his teeth at the mention of Bruce. He wanted to jump to his feet and strangle Roman, choke the life out of his stupid, unseen face. How _dare_ Roman talk that way about his- his former mentor. He had no business presuming like that. But still, he stayed as he was. Maybe it was a sense of duty, or maybe it was that strange coiling in his lower abdomen, but something kept him there on his knees.

“You’ve known the whole time?” he asked instead, fighting to keep his voice steady.

“Just about,” Roman said, picking up another handful and offering it to Jason. “Probably shouldn’t have taken that hood off, seeing as you’re not exactly an unknown. I know you put an end to my little experiment.”

Jason ignored the food this time, opting to keep his eyes where Roman’s would be. “You gonna do something about it?”

“Didn’t really have anything planned, no. Should I be doing something about it?”

The smirk behind Roman’s words was all but transparent and Jason fumed. Roman didn’t so much as take him seriously. Jason was that small to him, that insignificant, that under his thumb. The thought of it sent a surge of excitement through Jason. No, wrong, abort, he needed a comeback. Roman had asked him a question.

“You should be worrying,” he tried. Immediately, he kicked himself for being so obvious.

“Hm. I don’t think I will. Call it a hunch, but I don't think you're gonna interfere again.”

Jason’s stomach lurched and he turned his head away when Roman traced his bottom lip with his thumb.

“Don’t tell me you’re full already.”

“Fuck you,” Jason sneered, trying to stand up without the trembling of his legs being too obvious.

“And where are you going, Jason?” Roman asked, the amusement in his voice palpable.

“Away,” Jason started, before changing his mind. “Away from you.”

Jason could swear he heard a huff of laughter. His face heated up and he quickly turned his back on Roman, heading for the exit.

“See you later, kid,” Roman called as he left.

His wording made Jason bristle. No, no he wasn’t going to see Jason later, this was it. He’d finally gotten the kick in the ass he needed to walk and keep walking. Jason had already gone in too deep and he needed to get out. This whole thing had gone far enough.

Jason slammed the door on his way out and didn’t look back.


	2. Chapter 2

That was the thing about good intentions and well-made plans. They never worked out.

So that’s how Jason found himself storming into Roman’s room later that night, even more agitated than he’d been when he’d left.

Roman was there, just like he usually was, sitting in the armchair towards the front of the room, calm as a portrait. He’d dressed down for the night, but still looked just as formal in an undershirt and sleek sleeping pants. His legs were crossed and his head turned towards Jason as he entered. It wasn’t the lack of surprise that got to Jason; rather, it was the feeling like Roman had expected him. It pissed Jason off like a bull seeing red. He wanted to rage at Roman, but the words died before they came.

“Three hours. I’m impressed,” Roman said, glancing at his watch. “Finally done denying what you want?”

Jason gritted his teeth and glared at Roman, posture tight and straight as Jason tried desperately not to look as weak as he felt.

“Seeing as you’re so tight-lipped, let me tell you what you want.” 

Roman stood up and crossed the room over to his bed. He settled down on top of the blankets, and rested back on the pillows. Once he’d found a comfortable position, Roman patted his hip.

“You want to come over here and put your head on my chest and forget everything you ever knew.”

No. That wasn’t what Jason wanted. It wasn’t, it wasn’t, it wasn’t. So what was pulling him to do exactly that? To indulge this sicko’s fetish? It had to be something external; Roman had admitted he was experimenting with that mind-altering virus. Maybe Jason had become a target of it somehow. But Jason would have known; it wasn’t like the injection was subtle.

“Not getting any younger over here,” Roman chided. “Maybe you like that too.”

Maybe it wasn’t a virus, but it wasn’t like Jason enjoyed all this. It was just work, business, a means to end. Roman’s suggestion couldn’t hurt him, and obviously it was something that he wanted. Sure, Roman knew who Jason was now, but if he thought that Jason really had defected from Batman, then the plan could still work. Yeah, Jason could pull it off.

Jason took his sweet time getting rid of his boots and jacket. He dragged his feet as he approached Roman, and sluggishly crawled onto the bed. Only when he was good and ready did he finally lay his head down on Roman’s chest.

“That’s it, Jason.” Roman’s hands fell over Jason’s neck and back, pressing into knots a little too insistently. “Get the tension out of your shoulders. It’s not good for a pretty young thing like you.”

Much to his chagrin, Jason found himself relaxing far too quickly for anyone to think it was an act. Between the stupidly perfect bed and Roman’s ministrations, he couldn’t help it. That was one thing Jason couldn’t fault Roman on: the beds. They were a perfect blend of firm and soft with excessive amounts of pillows topping them off. Jason would never have admitted it to anyone, but it reminded him of his days in Wayne Manor. The smell of them wasn’t as homey, but compared to the lumpy cots and mattresses Jason had gotten used to, it was heavenly.

“You really think I’m pretty?” Jason asked, batting his eyelashes at Roman in what he hoped was a convincing matter.

“Anyone with eyes in his head thinks you’re pretty. Probably can tell that you’re a cockslut too.”

Jason flushed, and for a moment he wasn’t entirely sure if it was out of anger or embarrassment. He looked away. Roman had no right to be so good at adding insult to injury.

“And anyone with half a brain knows that tough guys like you want to get knocked down a peg.” Roman’s hand lashed out to force Jason to look at him. “Can smell the insecurity coming off of you.”

“You ever think you might be projecting?” Jason asked, giving a provocative half-smile through gritted teeth.

Roman’s hand came down hard on his cheek. Jason recoiled with a shudder, but made no move to retaliate. Instead he dipped his head down and tried to hide his flushed face.

Roman grabbed him around the neck and forced his head back up, straining Jason’s muscles to force him to look at Roman’s face.

“No,” he said, singularly and decisively.

In an instant, Jason found himself flipped onto his back with Roman pinning him there. He could have overpowered Roman, could have tossed him off at any time, but he let Roman shove him down and liked to think he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“You just want a little security, don’t you, Jason?” Roman murmured into Jason’s ear. “Daddy Bat never gave you that, did he?”

“You wouldn’t know,” Jason retorted, turning his head away.

“Wouldn’t I?” Roman asked, pulling back. “Don’t mind me speculating then?” 

Jason didn’t even get to open his mouth before Roman answered his own question.

“Of course you don’t.”

Roman sat back, his knee resting between Jason’s leg and dangerously close to his groin.

“The Bat picked you up somewhere, didn’t he?” he started. “You’re not the first Robin to run with him, and you weren’t the last. Doubt he’s got a supply of pubescent boys just laying around, so my guess is you got plucked off the streets.”

Jason swallowed and did all he could to hold back. God, it wasn’t fair. Roman didn’t even have to try to hide anything; he kept so many cards to his chest just by wearing that damn mask all the time.

“Yeah, you’re just some dirty street rat, aren’t you?”

“Better than being a dirty street criminal,” Jason said, any and all bite absent from his words. If anything, he sounded pathetic.

Roman clicked his tongue and palmed Jason’s cock through his pants.

“You’re describing yourself, Jason,” he said, taking an informative tone. “Something made you leave Batman.”

If by “something,” Roman meant being beaten within an inch of his life and then having a bomb explode in his face, then yes, that was right. He bit his lip.

“Get the sense you two aren’t on the best terms, what with how many people you’ve shot,” Roman chided, and Jason could all-but-see the hard stare he was giving.

“His methods are shit and he’s a hypocrite,” Jason said, shrugging. It was as good an excuse as any.

“Oh, is that all?” Roman said, so perfectly balancing monotone and sarcasm that Jason could hardly make out the latter. “Or was he not giving you the attention you really wanted?”

“Are you asking if we fucked?”

Roman didn’t answer, but he was still palming his cock. Was he expecting an answer? Jason didn’t even know anymore.

“We didn’t fuck, no.”

“Then you must have really wanted that.”

Jason would have kicked himself. He really did make this too easy for Roman. All he could do was glare.

“It’s a hell of a stage to set. Let me guess: you got older, you got resentful. The Bat wasn’t giving you the attention you were craving. So you left for greener pastures.”

“If by greener, you mean harder and shittier, yeah, real green.”

“Still bothers you, doesn’t it?” Roman let up on fondling Jason for a moment to look him in the face. “Poor little robin, out in the cold, fending for yourself. Playing tough so you don’t have to admit what you want.”

Jason took in a labored breath. “What do I want?”

“You know the word.”

Jason knew that he’d rather choke on his own tongue than say what Roman no doubt wanted- no, _expected_ , him to say, but the sensation between his legs was getting harder and harder to ignore.

“Say it,” Roman hissed, and Jason found himself blinking a few times, something in the back of his mind screeching for him to just say the damn word already, so he could get his fix.

“I’m done with your games,” Jason said, setting his jaw so the words would ring more true. He looked away, too, and braced his hands on the bed like he might stand up.

Roman’s hand didn’t ease up on his gentle palming of Jason’s cock, but he did start sliding his hand lower, lower, until his middle finger was damn near pressed against Jason’s asshole over the too-thin pants.

“Are you sure?” he murmured, and his voice had dropped in pitch. “Are you sure this isn’t exactly what you need? What you’ve always needed?”

Jason didn’t answer, but he had dug his teeth into his bottom lip. Perhaps he had to, to keep himself from saying it.

“Say it,” he repeated, and this time he stroked three fingers insistently against Jason’s opening.

“ _Daddy_ ,” he finally whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Good boy,” Roman purred, and gave Jason’s thigh a quick pat. “Come on, get everything off.”

Roman backed off, giving Jason some space to himself. Jason huffed and slowly, deliberately moved to shed his undershirt and pants. From the occasional hum Roman gave, he didn’t mind waiting. Only as Jason got to his boxers did he hesitate. It didn’t take more than five seconds for Roman to get impatient.

“Everything, Jason,” he rumbled, tapping his own thigh.

Jason gave a whine of complaint, but moved to comply. He tried to get his boxers off as quickly as possible, shoving them off his legs and to the ground. He hissed as the cool air hit his cock, already interested from Roman’s stimulation. Jason’s face heated up as he felt Roman’s eyes rake over him. It wasn’t like he’d never been like this before, but with him naked and Roman still almost completely covered, he felt so damn vulnerable.

That was only going to get worse.

“Now turn around and let me look at you,” Roman ordered, twisting his hand in a circle.

Jason’s stomach twisted at the demand and he shook his head.

“No.”

Roman didn’t so much as flinch.

“Yes,” he said, not even bothering to put on a firm tone. “Turn around and let me see.”

Still, Jason hesitated. He alternated between trying to look at the dents where Roman’s eye should have been and doing his best to avoid looking at Roman at all costs. 

“Unless you’d like to sleep in your own room tonight, move it,” Roman finally growled, giving Jason a slap to his hip.

Jason yelped and squirmed away from where he’d been struck. He took the hint and finally rolled over onto his front.

Roman slapped him again, once on the ass this time. “Hands and knees.”

“I’m going, I’m going, God, you’re pushy,” Jason bellyached as he pushed himself up. He had to admit; it did feel like he was back at the Batcave, being ordered to drop and give Bruce twenty. Jason shuddered at the thought.

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.” Roman shuffled up behind Jason, placing a hand on Jason’s back and resting his weight there. “You’d hump my leg ‘til you came if I said the word.”

Jason was suddenly glad to be able to duck his head as his cheeks heated up.

Roman leaned over him, slowly weighing him down more and more until Jason’s arms were quivering. He was no slouch, but it didn’t matter if Jason could beat Roman in a fist fight when he was bearing both of their weights. Adult men, even just average ones like Roman, were heavy.

Slowly, Roman’s face came close to Jason’s neck, until Jason could feel his muffled breaths.

“And you’d grovel for the chance.”

With that, Jason’s arms gave out, sending his head into the pillows and his torso onto the bed.

Roman lost his grip on Jason and stumbled to the side. Jason really wished he could have seen Roman’s face in that moment, but he looked stunned enough as he was. Jason couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped him, and the series of chuckles that followed. It was one of the very few times he could think of that Roman’s collected facade disappeared, if only for a moment.

He didn’t stop even as Roman righted and repositioned himself where he’d been, fuming transparently. Only with a sharp slap on his ass did he cut off with a yelp. The first was followed up with a flurry of blows, each harder than the last. Jason gritted his teeth and tried not to whine, even as his toes curled and his cock twitched.

He was given a reprieve as Roman leaned over him to grab him by the hair.

“Did I tell you to move?” he asked.

Jason pulled against the grip, savoring the sting of controlled pain. Roman cut him off, abruptly yanking his head farther back.

“Did I?!” he snarled. “Did I tell you to do anything but keep your ass where it was?!”

It felt like the temperature in the room dropped at the tone of Roman’s voice, and with it came a definite shift of mood. 

“No,” Jason whimpered. To his own surprise, he shrank at being scolded, deflated with Roman’s words. It shouldn’t have bothered him and Jason could only admit it himself with a bitter taste in his mouth. God, he hated what this man did to him.

Maybe Roman felt his resignation, because Jason’s hair was released and his head slumped back down to the pillows. When Roman spoke again, his tone had changed.

“Jason, Jason, _Jason_.” Roman made a show of rubbing his temples. “What am I gonna do with you if you can’t follow a simple order?”

“Followed the rest of them fine,” Jason dared to grumble.

Another smack, delivered right to the sore flesh that Roman had abused earlier. Jason winced and felt his eyes water.

“And all the backtalk. Didn’t anyone ever teach you manners?”

“No,” Jason said. Much as Alfred had tried, Jason had never listened. “Not ever.”

“Well, it’s never a bad time to learn your place.”

Roman removed himself from behind Jason once again, but this time only briefly. He pulled the drawer open on the bedside table to retrieve what Jason knew was lube and then he was back again.

“I don’t have to do any of this for you,” Roman said as he popped the cap open. “You’re as replaceable as anything else here.”

“So why keep me around?” Jason whispered around the lump in his throat.

“I don’t know, why do I keep anything pretty around?”

Jason hesitated to answer, once again unsure if Roman actually expected an answer. He wasn’t gonna trap himself again.

“I don’t need real silverware or fancy curtains to operate, Jason,” Roman said after a moment. “But they make me look better. No one’s ever gonna question if I’ve got cash and power to toss around.” An arm snaked its way around Jason’s hips. “So what’s it say for me if I’ve got a pretty, young, dangerous thing on my arm?”

“That you’ve got some serious unresolved issues?” Jason guessed.

Jason yelped as a slick finger was shoved into him without warning. His already half-hard cock twitched with the attention and Jason felt sweat beading at his forehead.

“It says a lot of things, son.” Roman didn’t so much as change his tone as he curled his finger inside of Jason. “And with these people, you need to talk without talking.”

He was still doing the whole protege thing, great. Jason couldn’t even discern what Roman’s deal was anymore. He hadn’t changed his tune at all, even knowing Jason’s history, and, if anything, he was even more forthcoming than usual. Like he expected Jason not to use what he said against him. Idiot.

“You already do it, Jason. Oh, you talk a lot of shit, but every little thing you do says you want someone to set limits.”

“Only so I can run right past them,” Jason said, flashing a smile sure to get him into some trouble.

A second finger joined the first and Jason tensed as they found his prostate, pressing against it insistently. Jason squirmed, digging his nails into the sheets and gritting his teeth. He was never going to get used to the unfiltered pleasure that that stupid bundle of nerves induced.

“And see what kind of consequences that gets you, is that right?” Roman said, tone like a laugh that he’d never let Jason hear. “I’d really hate to see you representing yourself in court. I don’t think you’re even trying to prove me wrong.”

And maybe Roman was right. Maybe Jason did like that kind of cat and mouse game. It didn’t matter right then, though, not with a neglected erection heavy between his legs. He had to play the field.

“Da-addy,” Jason whined, rocking back onto Roman’s fingers. “Can we talk legal crap later? Wanted you in me yesterday.”

Roman hesitated to answer, but made a point to rub his fingertips firmly up against Jason’s prostate.

“You could learn a few things about patience too,” he said after repeating the act a couple times. “You defer to me, not vice versa. What if I want to take my time and spoil you a little, huh?”

Jason swallowed as he considered how to answer. Be a dick, or say what Roman wanted to hear? It usually wasn’t such a tough question, but Roman had Jason by the balls here, maybe a little too literally.

“Then I take it like a slut,” he said, coming close to choking on his own words. Although, he had to admit, it was kind of liberating to say it outright.

“He can be taught.” Roman damn near purred the words, sending a shiver up Jason’s spine. “Don’t fret, Jason, I know you need your daddy’s cock. You can’t help it that you’re just a mewling, desperate street whore.”

Something about the quick switch to vulgarities and being demeaned had heat pooling in Jason’s stomach. Sure, his stubborn pride had his throat burning, but he couldn’t find the motivation to fire back anymore.

Jason whimpered and kicked out weakly as the fingers pulled out of him.

Roman’s warm hand stroked down Jason’s flank before resting on the small of his back. Jason could feel Roman’s gaze as easily as his touch, and he had to wonder what even went on in his head. 

“Daddy- Roman- ple-ease,” Jason begged, any and all snark escaping him completely.

“Sh, sh, baby,” Roman soothed, putting a particularly cruel edge on his saccharine words. “Have a little patience.”

Jason’s throat ached. He didn’t _want_ to have patience. He never had. Everything had always been go, go go, now, now, now with him. Leap before you look and shoot before asking questions. Bruce had never liked it, but he’d never done anything. He’d never really forced Jason to wait, or pushed him hard, or punished him, not like Roman liked to do. Jason did his best to stop thinking about Bruce. It all said too many things about him.

All Jason could do was grit his teeth and grab at the pillows. He was tempted to bite the one right in front of him, but, knowing Roman, that was gonna be an excuse for him to delay even further.

Finally, finally, Roman shifted again and one of his hands weighed down on Jason’s back. The velvety head of Roman’s cock nudged up against Jason’s rim, and he couldn’t help but let out an appreciative sigh.

“Use your words, Jason,” Roman murmured. “What do you want?”

“You,” Jason gritted out, trying his best to push back on Roman.

Roman held both himself and Jason in place, humming with vague disappointment. “Come on, I know you can do better than that.”

Jason perked up at the wording. For a second, he was back in the cave, punching the hell out of Bruce and getting nothing but faint praise in return. It made Jason’s stomach twist in a wrong, but so entirely right way. Roman was right about him, just like always.

“Daddy, please,” Jason whimpered, craning his neck to get Roman in his peripheral vision. “I need your cock, need a good, hard fucking, _need_ whatever you’ll give me. Ple-ease, I might _die_.”

He caught what sounded kind of like a muffled snort. It almost startled Jason because he’d seldom heard anything that could be described as a laugh from Roman. What did that even mean?

His question was answered as Roman shoved himself in to the hilt in one go. Jason spasmed and his jaw fell open with a howl. Tears pricked at his eyes at the sensation of being forcibly pulled apart. God, that hurt and, fuck, he loved every second of it. When the jab of pain was finally over, all Jason could do was lay there limp, speared on Roman’s cock all the while.

“Good job, son,” Roman said, patting his flank. “You know what you’re doing.”

Jason grumbled a vague rejection of the praise, eyelids fluttering as he adjusted to the penetration. The truth was that Jason had no idea what he was doing. In the heat of the moment, it struck him that, no, he wasn’t there for any mission or with any real goal; all he wanted was Roman. Wanted him more than he’d ever wanted anything.

The realization had no time to sink in. Roman pulled back a few inches before slamming back in, setting the pace. Jason barely had time to cry out once before Roman was pounding in and out, one arm wrapped firmly around Jason’s waist with the other braced on the bed. Jason had broken out in a sweat and tears pricked at his eyes; pain coursed through him, but it was _good_. He gritted his teeth against the bite of it, the burning, but Roman brutalized that spot inside of him well enough to keep his cock hard and bobbing and begging for attention. Jason knew better than to touch himself, though; he wouldn’t have pain or pleasure or anything if he tried that, and, more than anything, Jason couldn’t stand neglect.

“That’s it,” Roman muttered, voice still controlled despite his rough breathing. “Such a well-behaved slut. Little push and you go right down like a good boy.”

Jason whimpered and tried to twist around at Roman’s words. They stung because they were true and because he loved being degraded to his face. Fuck, he was as sick as Roman, maybe more.

“Live to please, don’t you?” Roman asked as he bottomed out inside of Jason. “Built up that strong, independent vigilante persona, but just look at you. You’re mine, Jason, and you damn well know it.”

Roman snarled the last few words, a chip in his own persona cracking off. Maybe that was all this was; both of them blowing off steam from masking who they really were. And boy were they both ugly.

The arm around Jason’s waist released and Roman lurched over Jason. All Jason could do- no, all he wanted to do was shove back against Roman, and that’s exactly what he did.

Roman yelped, his dignity cracked once again, but all he did was shove back in turn. The most retribution Jason faced was one hand coming up to claw at his chest. Roman was close; experience told Jason that much. Jason was just as close.

He knew better than to voice that out loud, as that surely would mean Roman would drag it out even further. Instead he rubbed his cock against Roman’s Egyptian cotton sheets like an animal, seeking out friction Roman didn’t seem interested in giving.

No, what Roman wanted was to reduce him to a heap of rubble; something to beg and crumble under him. Jason gritted his teeth, but the action was softened by the look on his face. Something Roman undoubtedly was savoring, if the tightening of his hand on Jason’s chest was any indication.

“You think you can come without my say-so?” Roman growled. “You can’t. You don’t need to anyway. You’re gonna lay there and let me use you like a good little fucktoy, and you’re gonna like it.”

Jason whimpered at the words. The thought of it, of being denied, had something deep in him ache. More than that, it lit his rebellious side as well. He watched Roman with hooded eyes, trying to hide the lazy smirk that had started tugging on his mouth. For each brutal snap of Roman’s hips, Jason ground his cock into the sheets, feeling himself approaching the edge along with him. Not quite as equals, but something close to it. 

God, Roman really knew how to fuck him just right.

Jason felt his stomach and toes and everything curl with the tell-tale ache in his groin. He pitched his head back as all his pelvic muscles tensed and he felt the first shock of his climax. Roman felt it too, which only made him fuck him harder, each thrust making Jason gasp and whimper into the pillow. Damn him.

Roman hit his orgasm just as hard, but the signs weren’t as clear. The rumble from his throat and the break in his pacing, Jason only knew because he knew Roman. Sure enough, as Jason spasmed and spilled all over Roman’s expensive sheets, Roman buried himself firmly inside of him.

One grunt, then another, and Jason felt Roman’s cock pulse inside of him. Then, nothing but Roman’s heavy breaths mixed with his own.

Roman rested his face against Jason’s back, brushing leather and metal across his skin. Jason shuddered, resisting the urge to arch into the touch.

As his breathing slowed, Roman pulled out gingerly. Jason whined at the loss, a void left in Roman’s wake. It almost hurt, just not having that foreign presence in him. He pulled his arms up around his head, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“Hey,” Roman said, as fingers threaded through his hair. “Don’t do that. Look at me.”

Jason shifted his elbow away so that he could look at Roman with one eye. Expressionless as the mask was, Jason could just barely imagine a smile where it should have been.

“You did good, kid.” Roman petted down his scalp and stopped to rub Jason’s neck. “Couldn’t have asked for better.”

A mess of conflicting emotions bubbled in Jason’s chest. It felt so good to be praised and patted, but how they’d gotten there was _fucked up._

Despite that conflict, he couldn’t help but smile, and Roman seemed to smile back. Like he cared. Jason knew that he didn’t, but it was nice to think he did. It was nice to think that _someone_ did, enough to have him in bed like this. Enough to know what Jason wanted more than he did himself. Roman opened parts of Jason that he hadn’t known existed, parts that hadn’t wanted to know existed. He’d shown Jason nirvana.

And Jason would never know if Roman knew or cared about what he’d done. Roman didn’t seem changed at all as he settled down next to Jason.

Well, maybe one thing had changed. Once he was laying down and seemingly ready to fall asleep, Roman reached over and wrapped his arms around Jason, pulling him snug to his chest. That wasn’t something he’d done the first few times they’d fucked. Roman had rolled over and gone to sleep at first, both of them keeping to their sides of the bed. Two or three times after that, though, he held Jason, and had always held him since. Problem was, Jason didn’t know why or what had changed.

Jason’s best guess? Roman was declaring his property.

He’d never pegged Roman as a cuddler, and this wasn’t really cuddling. It resembled cuddling on some level, Roman spooned up against Jason, arms slung around him, but it wasn’t for love, hell no. There was no sentiment to it, no real affection. Jason didn’t dare think about it as being a gesture of fondness. That was a rabbit hole Jason had already tumbled down far enough. No, Roman grabbed Jason, holding Jason like a thing he owned. Like Jason was a prize to be guarded jealously.

Jason wondered what Roman would do if anyone else got their hands on him. How disemboweled they would be by the the end of the day, what ditch they'd be thrown into. Would Roman remind everyone that Jason was his right away, or turn it into a waiting game?

Jason felt possessed, that was for sure. He felt restrained, but guarded, dominated, but cared for. It wasn’t something he was used to, and he knew that it was unwise to get used to it, let alone the possibility of addicting himself to it.

Who was he kidding? He’d already walked out and come back within hours, looking for a fix. He was past the point of addiction. God help him.

Jason could just barely feel Roman breathing against his neck through the mask. The hairs on Jason’s neck stood up involuntarily at the feeling. It shouldn’t have surprised Jason as much as it did. He’d half-expected that Roman didn’t need to breathe at all. It was so easy to forget that Roman was as human - as animal - as anyone Jason knew. He made a damn good effort to hide that fact beneath a nonplussed attitude and a bondage mask, yet Jason saw that animalness, and, more perplexing yet, was allowed to see it. If Roman didn’t want him seeing any fumbles, any flaws, anything less than controlled and intimidating, then Jason knew that he would never have.

The question was really of what that meant. Was it a show-me-yours I’ll-show-you-mine thing? Jason had exposed himself often enough. Was it just a byproduct of spending so much time around Roman? Everyone had flukes now and again, after all. Or maybe, was it that Roman just- liked him? Liked him on some bizarre level at least. Jason didn’t even want to the think about that. He didn't want that answer.

Maybe the easiest thing would be to just fall asleep in Roman’s arms. Like before; not as equals, but something close enough for Jason’s needs.

Jason settled in closer and shut his eyes, blocking out any higher thoughts. Roman took care of him. Nothing else mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to mention this until the end, so on the subject of how Roman knows Jason's identity and also that he was Robin at one point, well, I realized halfway through that that probably doesn't make sense. Roman knowing Jason's name and connecting the dots with Red Hood curing the mayor rather than murdering him is one thing, but he'd have to jump through several more logical hoops to arrive at the conclusion that Jason was Robin. I thought this might make sense given how Red Hood and Batman interact in the comics, but I'm now seeing that that's dubious at best. I suppose we could always say that it was just a wild guess on Roman's part that Jason happened to give away as soon as he suggested it, but I'm admitting here that it wasn't the most well-thought-out point on my part, and remains in tact mostly for the sake of convenience.


End file.
